The Blue and Green Ribbon
by Ladderandsteps
Summary: Alfred loves to be the hero. He loves the attention around it, but he also loves that fact that he can make others happy. But when he falls down in the playground, he realizes that he needs a hero for himself. And who could fill that role more perfectly than a certain Arthur Kirkland?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As I was browsing through my work, I found this and realized that it was cute. The first part will be in Alfred's point-of-view!**

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For as long as I remember, being a hero is what I do best.

My twin brother and I were NICU babies. But between the two of us, Mattie was always the weaker one. Whereas I left the NICU in about four weeks, Mattie stayed for almost ten weeks as neonatologists observed his conigental heart condition. At a certain point, Mom and Dad were told that Mattie might not enjoy life like the rest of us.

Because of this, my father told me to take very good care of Matthew.

He was as delicate as a maple leaf, my father would tell me.

So, taking his words to heart, I protected Mattie using every one of my fibers. I gave up a lot for Mattie. He would always get the softest pillow, the plushest blanket, and even the first pick for all of the toys. Seeing him light up makes me all mushy inside, causing me to reinforce my behavior.

"Why am I always the princess?" Mattie complained as he poked his head behind the blanket fort that he and I built just two hours ago.

I frowned as I scoped the area for any possible invaders. The Vargas twins were playing with us, and while Feli is nothing to worry about, Romano was another story. Picking up my wooden sword, I turned to Mattie and whispered, "Because you gots to be protected by me!"

Seeing a hint of fiery red, I screamed, "Arrgh! Die you dragon! Die! Die! Die!" I hit Romano, who was dressed in a red t-shirt and orange shorts. He winced as he covered his face with his right arm. Reaching out with his left arm, he pulled on the pink and purple blanket. "No! Not the castle!"

I ran over and covered Mattie from being hit by the blankets. Picking up the blankets, I glared at Romano, "We'll meet again you bad dragon!"

Romano huffed as he stood up and brushed his arms, "You bastards, I'm going to find Feli and drag him out of here."

I watched Romano walk away and turned to Mattie with a small frown, "Don't worry Mattie! We can build the fort so it's even stronger! That way no one can break it and it'll always pro-tect you!"

Mattie held his knees close to his chest, "Fine, can I be the knight, then?"

I patted Mattie's head affectionately, "Sorry Mattie, but I promised Daddy that I would protects you! So I gots to be the knight in shining armor."

He pushed my hand away and began to march off, "Well I wish I could be the hero for once. I'm not a doll, Al."

It was the first time Mattie was disappointed in me. It was an awkward dinner that night. I was convinced that I was right. Mattie was too weak to play such a strong role. He would hurt himself and then Mom and Dad would get worried. I had to be the good younger brother and protect him at all times.

Besides, it was just a little fight. He would get over it, right?

Wrong, it was three days of sulking between the both of us. Mattie only talked to his stuffed polar bear, whereas I played with my action figures. After becoming extremely bored, I stomped into Mattie's room and told him exactly what he wanted to hear, "Fine, be a knight, Mattie." His violet eyes lit up, and I couldn't help but cross my arms in pride. "But we gots to play by my rules Mattie!"

The innocent little boy nodded his head.

After twenty minutes, and lots and lots of duct tape, Mattie squirmed between the pillows that covered him, "Do I really have to dress like this, Al?"

I nodded my head furiously at the pillow man. If Mattie was going to be a hero, he needed to have his armor where nothing could possibly hurt him. Besides, Mattie couldn't expect me to relinquish my hero status so easily, could he?

He flailed his arms around as he pretended to battle big monsters. Every now and then, he would turn around to look at me with a pleasant expression, "Don't worry Princess Al, I'll protect you."

Scowling, I huffed, "Prince Al, pillow man. If you're going to be the hero, at least get my name right, or I'll protects myself!"

At the end of the day, Mattie became the hero he had always wanted to be. But he quickly realized that he didn't like all of the responsibilities that came with it. Instead of being the damsel in distress, he decided that he would become the hero's sidekick. It was perfect. Mattie could stay by at the sidelines, and I can protect him at the side.

Preschool quickly came afterwards, and with preschool I discovered many more kids our age. Including the Vargas kids, I met Ludwig, Tino, Kiku, Heracles, and so many others. The best part? I was always the hero! No one ever questioned it. I saved the day everyday, and I loved it!

But, being a hero is a great responsibility. Saving the day is no easy task, especially when people expect you to take care of everything dangerous. Now that we were in kindergarten, we needed to learn how to share. We didn't mind sharing with the other kindergartners, but when it came time for recess, we had to share with the big, bad...gulp...first graders.

Now let me tell you, first graders are not nice people. They are big and tall and mean. The playground consisted of three small slides, two medium ones, and a large twisty slide. Along with the slides, there was a jungle gym, merry go rounds, a large spider net, and multiple swings. It was playground heaven.

Or it would've been if the first graders shared.

Most of the older kids hogged all of the fun equipment. At least four first graders sat on the top of the slides, five of them were near the swing set, four of them were sitting on the merry go round, and five of them were on to the spider net. It wouldn't have bothered the kindergartners if the first graders were actually playing. Instead, they just sat near the equipment and socialized.

If any kindergartner came near, their nostrils would flare and they would demand that the "babies" leave them alone.

Heracles stared at the first graders sleepily before rubbing his eyes and grumbling, "You know, if I was born a month earlier, I would've been a first grader, too."

Feliciano hid behind Ludwig as he trembled, "My grandfather tolds me that I should be in first grade because I'm good at art, but I'm glad I'm in kindergarten. Those kids are scary!"

Ludwig turned to me while holding onto Feli's hand protectively, "Al, go and talk to those kids. You are the strongest."

Gulping, my head turned to him. For the past one month, the first graders took over the playground whereas we were forced to play on the blacktop. But after so many hopscotch and hand games, we were bored and tired. We wanted to play on the playground, without the first graders terrorizing us, of course.

"Luddy," I protested. "But you are strong, too!"

Romano scoffed behind me, "Scared bastard? I should've guessed. You're no hero."

It was all I needed to throw the kickball that I was holding. Pulling up my sleeves, I nodded my head as I thought about all of the superheroes that I knew about thus far.

Taking a few steps forward, I observed the five first grade gods. They were the strongest of first graders, and everyone listened to their words without question. There was the bad touch trio, who were the most powerful gods, and then there was Elizabeta and Roderich who were the nicer of the gods. Ludwig knew Roderich and Gil, but in the playground, connections brought you nowhere. Age was the only thing that mattered.

As I took each step, I wondered what I would say. They probably would laugh in my face and make me do silly things like they made Romano do the other day. I don't want to kiss any of them. That's just disgusting.

Gulping, I took a deep breath and puffed my chest out just a little. The superheroes that I grew up to love always did this whenever they encountered the villains. I prepared myself to have the deepest voice possible. Everyone who was powerful had deep voices. But when I saw the first graders up on the spider web, I squeaked out, "We want the playground!"

The blond haired guy turned to me nonchalantly and raised a brow, "What did you say, _petit chou_?"

The blond haired first grader was Francis Bonnefoy. He was the most stylish in the bad touch trio, always wearing the newest fashion and most expensive designer brands. With long blond hair that fell to his shoulders, he looked like a valiant prince, especially when the wind blew in his hair.

I gulped as I tried to stand up straighter, "We want the playground." It was still in the same, squeaky voice as before.

Francis turned to his albino friend, Gilbert, "Gil, do you know what he's saying?"

Gilbert snorted, "If you want to talk to the awesome me, you have to prove that you are awesome, too. Climb this web."

I glanced at the ropes. This was a structure that I always admired from afar. Climbing this web was the ultimate power status. Only the strongest students were able to climb this web. As I reached for the first rope, I took a deep breath and glanced up at the first graders. I would do it. I would do it for Mattie, Luddy, Feli, Kiku, Heracles, even Romano. As I wobbled on the ropes, I tried to hide my grin. It was hard, but I was doing it. I was already half way up the web until I heard my teacher, Ms. Keane, come out and call, "Recess is over kids!"

Francis grinned as he jumped off the spider web, "Well _petit chou_ it was nice to meet you, but we'll have to talk some other time!" he yelled as he waved back.

The other kids saw it fit to jump off the spider web as well. I held onto the ropes for my life as the spider web waved, but when Antonio and Gilbert both jumped off at the same time, my grip on the ropes loosened, and I tumbled to my doom. I closed my eyes and held my hands protectively over my face. Woodchips pierced through my skin near my legs and some even slipped through my shirt.

Groaning, I glanced up and to my dismay, all of my friends left me.

I was alone…

As I tried to stand slowly, I let out a small cry when I saw red bead pool at my left knee-the first one to hit the ground when I fell.

This never happened before. No one ever hurt me while I was playing hero. I was invincible. Blood was no something that I dealt with. Plopping down to the ground, I choked back a few sobs as the tears rolled down my cheeks. M-my parents weren't there to help me, and Ms. Keane was busy speaking to a few of the others kids.

A shadow fell upon me as I gulped. This was it. The hero fell. Turning around slowly, I saw a first grader in front of me with an unamused expression on his face. He had dark mahogany shorts, navy blue boating shoes, a white dress shirt and a navy blue sweater vest. Wrapped around his neck was a blue and green polka dot bow. As he walked closer slowly, I began to inch away. The villain has trapped me.

Leaning down slowly, the boy reached out and grabbed my knee. His thin fingers ran across my knee, "You're hurt," his accent was crisp and proper. As he glanced up, I could see his dark green eyes. They were the same color as the green in the ribbon he wore.

With a small sigh, the boy reached for the ribbon around his neck and pulled it off. He wrapped the ribbon around my knee and looked up with a broad grin, "Are you alright?"

My eyes were wide for sure. How could they not be? He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue lollipop. Handing it to him, the boy ruffled his hair, "Don't cry, alright? Heroes are strong no matter what." Standing up, the boy placed his hands into his pocket and began to walk away.

Standing up quickly, I ran to the other boy, "Wait! What's your name?"

The boy glanced back casually, "Kirkland, Arthur Kirkland. Why?"

"So I can give you back your ribbon," I smiled back at him. He wasn't as scary as the other first graders.

Arthur shook his head and patted my shoulder, "It's okay. Keep the ribbon. Think of it as being a gift for being a wonderful hero."

As Arthur walked away that day, I learned two new things. One was that first graders weren't really as terrifying as I had originally thought, and two was that everyone hero had their own hero.

And my hero was Arthur Kirkland.

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 **A/N: Ms. Keane is from PowerPuff Girls. I used her because in my eyes, she'll be the best elementary school teacher ever!**

 **Also, next chapter in Arthur's point-of-view.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: You've seen Alfred's point-of-view, now see Arthur's!**

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For as long as I could remember, Francis Bonnefoy was the frog extraordinaire.

Him and his ridiculous trio make sure to torment me in every way possible.

Take, for example, my third birthday party. It was a party full of fairies and magical creatures, and those gits had the nerve to mock me for my "imagination." Imagination? Bollocks. Those boys are non-believers. If they were actually diligent and like a gentle-boy, they would also be able to see the fairies.

But perhaps the worst period of my life was during preschool to kindergarten. At my fourth birthday party, Francis showed off his new hairstyle, long flowy, wavy hair. As well as his new shiny hair, he wore a sky blue dress and twirled around in it whereas I was dressed in my black cape. Before you say anything, know that I had a magical themed birthday party that year. Everyone was supposed to be dressed like witches and wizards, and Francis had the nerve to dress up in a flowy dress.

He looked like an ugly girl.

By the end of the party, every kid threw off their cape and clamored over to their mothers and fathers. They wanted dresses as long and flowy as Francis, and they wanted their hair just like Francis as well. It was a revolution of sorts. Long hair was in and short hair was out.

I don't mind if Francis hogs the attention on other days. I'm well used to fading into the background. But, the git just had to choose April 23rd to steal all of the attention. If you're going to be a git, please don't do it on my birthday, thank you very much.

Anyway, the frog taunted me all throughout my party. Saying I have ugly hair, and ugly eyebrows, and I'm short and stumpy. Now before you get all sympathetic for me, know that I'm not really that pathetic and useless to take in Francis's words. That day, I took a black sharpie from my oldest brother's room and drew a moustache on Francis's face. Along with the moustache I wrote out the one word that I could spell proficiently, "Frog" on his forehead.

My mother gave me a good scolding that day.

Didn't matter.

The frog got what he deserved.

I thought the whole dress business ended at my birthday party, but lo and behold, when I went to school on Monday, almost all of the kids-at least whoever I invited to my party-wore dresses. By the end of the school year, everyone decided to grow out their hair.

At that point, I didn't know what was more traumatizing.

The fact that Francis became the most popular kid in preschool or the fact that I couldn't wear my little sweater vests anymore.

My pride went out the window when I declared that I would grow out my hair. My father certainly wasn't happy about that, and my brothers shared a good laugh at my expense. Mother though was extremely pleased. She always worried that I was too quiet for my own good. She supported me in allowing me to grow my hair, and she even told me that we could get manicures and pedicures together while hunting for dresses.

By January, my hair was to my shoulders. It wasn't nearly as perfect as Francis. Strands flew in every direction, and Allistor even started calling me lion face.

Didn't matter. I had hair like everyone else.

During Valentine's Day, it was my chance to compare the number of chocolates I had with Francis. Francis was the more popular one, but this year, the fairies and Mr. Unicorn told me that they would pitch in so we could beat the dastardly frog. In the end, we tied, which was fairly impossible. The fairies dumped a whole bag of chocolate this morning! I saw them.

Francis probably stole some.

"I bet I can blow a bigger bubble that you," Francis challenged with a smirk. Since it was raining outside, the kids had to stay inside for lunch. While the other kids in his class played board games, Francis decided to grace me with his unwanted presence. I want to puke.

Reaching for two pieces of gum, I snorted, "I'll blow a bubble twice the size of yours."

As we sat there chewing on our pieces of gum, we stared outside. Today, Francis wore a chartreuse dress with light pink bows. It was a putrid color, but somehow Francis pulled it off naturally. He leaned closer to me as he began to blow his bubble. With a small glare, I began to blow on my bubble and watched as it grew in size.

Unfortunately, mine popped early on, covering my face.

Francis pointed at my face with a smirk and continue to blow on his bubble. Once it became bigger than his face, I turned around and let out a small indignant huff.

Mistake of the century.

Francis's bubble popped and the filthy gum stuck all over the side of my head. With a horrified expression, I turned to Francis and snarled. He leaned back slowly and gave me an apologetic shrug, "Très désolé."

"Who needs your apology!"

I ran into the bathroom stall and hoped no one would come after me. Starting to stick my fingers in my hair, I blanched as I pulled out the gum. This treacherous candy was in Francis's mouth. Ehh…

"You're doing it all wrong."

I yelped as I jumped up. Staring at the blond frog, I snarled, "What are you doing here? I locked the stall."

He shrugged, "And I crawled under." He took my head slowly and instructed me to not move. Running his fingers through my hair, he sighed, "You tangled the gum through your hair even more, Arthur. We'll have to cut it."

I sulked on the toilet seat as the frog pulled out one of the safety scissors. Chuckling darkly, I thought to myself, _so he came prepared, huh? That lousy frog._

As Francis cut my hair, I could only weakly say, "Give me a stylish look, if you are going to cut my hair."

"Of course I will," Francis grinned.

After my haircut, I look at myself in the mirror and snorted, "You git, this was the haircut I had before." I didn't know what to say anymore. The hair that I grew for almost a year was gone.

Francis laughed obnoxiously, "Well of course, you only look cute in this, Arthur! See you later!"

I decided not to grow out my hair again. It was a painstaking process having to go through a strict hair care regime. It was nice to be able to wake up in the morning and not worry about the state of my hair. The other kids laughed, but I didn't care. Soon enough, they'll realize that having long hair is bollocks anyway.

At my fifth birthday party, Francis decided to create another spectacle. This year was a pirate themed birthday party. Antonio fell in love and created a pirate costume that was better than mine, but we'll get to Antonio and his spectacle later. Our main focus is Francis, the frog.

This year, Francis decided to forgo the dresses. He had on tan slacks and a white and navy striped sweater. His blond hair was pulled back into a crisp ponytail using a dark red ribbon. He looked fresh, chic, and hip.

It was enough to ruin the pirate theme.

Francis's present that year was a white ribbon which was decorated in blue and green polka dots. That was it. Such a simple present for someone who only decked his body in luxury brands.

"Here's your ribbon, Arthur," he sang as he handed me my present.

I snorted, "I don't have long hair."

His beam contained a smidgen of arrogance, "Exactly."

Well, I despised the ribbon. I wanted to bury it under the soil, but my mother spotted it and took a strong liking to it. She wanted me to grow my hair out, but I gave her a resounding no. I was not going to copy Francis again. It would hurt my ego too much. Anyway, all throughout the summer, she tied that revolting ribbon around my neck.

Every family photo…marred by that ugly ribbon.

I thought I hid the ribbon well-it would be embarrassing to have my friends see me in it-but mother found it one October day. She wrapped the ribbon around my neck, causing a fashion disaster and sent me on my way. I held my head up high as I tried to act dignified. The other kids snickered-most especially the Bad Touch Trio-but I ignored them.

Blast it all, by the end of the day I will get rid of this ribbon.

Gentle-boys do not dress in such revolting ways.

As much as I tried to slip the ribbon away, Francis or someone else would eventually find a way to return it back to me. It was exhausting. I hid it behind the books, under the teacher's desk, even dropping it in the boys' room's trash can. Grumbling, I ate my lunch silently on the swings as I tried to reason through where else I could hide this ribbon.

As I thought slowly, I saw a group of kindergarteners huddled on the blacktop looking scared. The center one was a hyperactive boy who everyone knew about. Alfred F. Jones. Kindergartner who believed he was a superhero in disguise. He was everywhere. And he never failed to come whenever there was trouble. He was really loved by some and really hated by others. All in all, he was probably just as obnoxious as Francis and his friends.

With a scoff, Arthur turned away and finished his fish and chips. There was no use in wasting his time over a silly little kindergartner. He should be focused on his efforts. Taking his lolly out of his bag, he blanched when he realized that his mother packed him blue raspberry, a flavor he hated.

"Recess is over kids!" Ms. Keane called out.

I closed my lunchbox and picked up all my trash. Throwing it away, I picked up my lunchbox and threw it into the first grader's bin. I was getting ready to leave until I noticed a clump of flesh near the spider web. With a frown, I glanced around to see if anyone else could help the lad, but when all of the adults were busy, I huffed and decided to take care of the situation myself.

As I neared, I realized the boy was crying. "You're hurt," I bluntly mentioned as I crouched down. He flinched as I reached out, but I ignored it and grazed my fingers above his bleeding knee. I glanced up at him for a brief moment. It was a spectacle to see for sure. The great hero of the school was crying over a scrape on the knee?

It was nothing a band-aid couldn't fix.

Suddenly, I became mesmerized by the sky blue orbs he had. You know what else was the same blue? The polka dots on that blasted ribbon. With a sigh, I tried to not become too excited lest he figure out what I was doing. I pulled my ribbon off and tied it on his knee, making sure the blood was caught on the ribbon.

There, now he can't return it. It has blood, and that would be gross.

Looking up with a broad grin-I did it! I finally have gotten rid of it-I asked, "Are you alright?"

His eyes became wide as I stiffened. He wasn't thinking was he? Thinking is bad. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the blue lolly and held it out to him. This should distract him well enough, "Don't cry, alright? Heroes are strong no matter what." I ruffled his hair as I began to stand up.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I turned around with a broad grin. I did it! Mother will never make me wear that ribbon again.

Alfred ran over to me suddenly, huffing and puffing, as he asked, "Wait! What's your name?"

I glanced back slowly. Why would he want to know my name? "Kirkland, Arthur Kirkland. Why?" I mentioned in the same way as James Bond. Next year, that was going to be the theme of my birthday party. And next year, I won't invite frog face.

"So I can give you back your ribbon," he gave me a pleasant smile.

I shook my head and patted his shoulder, "It's okay. Keep the ribbon. Think of it as being a gift for being a wonderful hero."

No way, Jones. I gave you that unfortunate ribbon for a reason. Don't you dare think of giving it back to me. If you do, I'll have to show you just how scary first graders can truly be.

As I walked away from the kindergarten, I learned something new.

I knew Francis was a git, and that I should keep away from him. I also knew Francis's friends were just as putrid as him. But I didn't know how Alfred F. Jones would be. The kindergartener that was swept away by the ribbon that I didn't care for.

The ribbon served as a catalyst that day.

It invoked feelings of love within him.

Since then, he trailed aimlessly behind me with a love struck expression.

Annoying.

On my twenty third birthday, it wasn't Francis that upstaged me. It was Alfred. He went down on one knee and proposed. In the box was the ring which sat securely on the green and blue polka dotted ribbon.

So Francis was a git, that's something no one could argue about.

But in that second, with Alfred proposing to me, I realized that Francis was a good friend.

Because if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever gotten together with my hero.

"Yes," I mentioned as Alfred slipped the ring onto my finger.

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 **A/N: Hope you liked this story!**


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